


i don't think i want to leave you

by BLUEBERRYBLAZES



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Major character death - Freeform, cries, feeling sad alexa play able sisters, literally todays stream had be sobbing, oneshot thingy, pop off hours, ramble writing my writing style is such a mess, suck it green boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:07:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28885863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLUEBERRYBLAZES/pseuds/BLUEBERRYBLAZES
Summary: Alternate ending to todays stream (end of the disc war). In other words I prepared for someone to die and it didn't happen so now im writing it.Title from 'I'm Sorry Boris' by Wilbur its a banger i'd check it out if i were youLowercase intended we die like men
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 44





	i don't think i want to leave you

**Author's Note:**

> AYO so this is gonna be a lot of angsts all hurt no comfort type shit so if that isn't for you please click away. This'll probably be a one-shot as I don't want to drag it on but it should be pretty long. Just an alternate ending where tommy dies so ykyk. Hope you enjoy :]
> 
> TW // death , injury , manipulation

"dream i'm not throwing my stuff in the hole. no. i'm not doing it"  
why was he being belittled like this? it was just like all those times in exile where he had wracked his brain for ways to prevent this. for ways to prevent loosing his stuff everyday. ways to prevent dream from getting to him. tommy didn't know what to do as he stood there, stomached tied in knots as he watched tubbos face fall out the corner of his eye. god. it felt bad. it hurt to be there on shaking legs as he was squashed down, smaller and smaller. was there even a reason to what dream had did? was there even a reason why images of his exile rushed through his mind. logstedshire, the beach 'party', the explosions. what was the need? what was the need for any of it?

he had thought that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to go through this again. maybe there was a chance that he wouldn't be standing here, being told to put his stuff in the hole. he thought that was over. it was supposed to be over. it was over. the anger bubbling up inside his chest showed no fear. showed no fear of person in front of him. no fear of the consequences. there was nothing dream could say that'd take him out of the growing urge to say something. just say everything, whatever came to his mind. all the stuff about exile. just, everything.

"tommy. stuff in the hole, please" a hint of sarcasm spilled out of dreams mouth as the words did. it hung on the tip of his tongue, mocking those who listened. this was just a game to him. nothing more nothing less. and tommy hated every single bit of it. the sarcasm, the spite of it all. what had he done that was so bad, huh? burnt down precious georges' house?

none of it made sense. dream had done so much worse than that, yet the man appeared to considered himself to be some type of saviour. it wasn't reasonable.

the anger only continued to grow, rising up into his throat, bubbling violently at every word laced in poison. tommy had had enough of being every fools puppet. he was fed up of being used or laughed at or manipulated. for what? because everything good he got was ripped away from him within seconds of him having it in the palm of he had. he was done.

"no dream. i'm not going to be your laughing stock anymore. im done, im so one with everything you've done. they don't know dream, they don't know what happened in exile. dream they don't fucking know what you did. they don't fucking know any of it," tommy felt eyes in the back of his skull. tubbo. tubbo would understand. tubbo would understand the anger.

as soon as the words came out of his mouth he couldn't stop them.

"dream you're a piece of shit. you blew up logstedshire, you took my shit and blew it up every time. every fucking time. all that shit you said to me? huh? that you're my friend? dream i never should've believed you. i never should have. i'm so fed up. all you do is ramble on about how i was your friend about how you were my only friend. what friend isolates them from everyone else? non don't dream. i'm so fucking done."

he didn't know when he started crying, he didn't know when he had began to raise his voice. he knew that he had said it. he had finally said it out loud. and it felt so great. so great. as if he more twice the size of dream, able to tread on him and not worry about anything anymore. gazing around, tommy spotted the look of disbelief on his friends face. his real friends face. giving a watery smile back, the turned around again.

there was a crossbow pointed at him.

"tommy, don't be such a liar. i was your friend. you blew up the community house. you did this. and you blame me? I was nothing but nice to you. I helped you."

he couldn't believe this. why was he being blamed for this? he didn't blow up the community house. he didn't do this. this wasn't his fault. none of this was his fault. the anger had been replaced with a sense of dread. he would never he able to win against him ever. he hated that so much. but there was nothing he could do. nothing he could do to stop everything. it was out of his power. he no longer was able to do anything against dream. 

there he was : tommyinnit the fools puppet.

"tommy is this-"

"dream. let tubbo go. i'll give you the discs, anything. just let him go and we can sort this out, okay?" nodding his head to the side, he signalled for tubbo to leave, much to the other boys protest and hesitation. Tubbo would've spoken up if it wasn't for the smile on tommys face, he would've spoken up is it wasn't for tommys nod of reassurance. Slowly, he began walking down the mountain heading rushing with ideas, just little ideas to get them out of this mess. 

he would owe tommy a favour after all this.

so there they were, tommy and dream. theseus and lycomedes. 

a string of words hung in the back of him mind. 'so long theseus'. had technoblade intended to betray him like that, or was it the other way around. he didn't know. there was so much left unanswered. so much left unfinished. it was like writing a sentence and getting distracted, only to come back to it confused on what had happened. everything was so mixed up. everything with the discs, with techno, with tubbo. none of it made sense. it was all pointless, wasn't it? why did he keep arguing over this? why did the discs matter to him so much?

he didn't understand anymore.

he had fought so hard to get here. he had tried get a one up on dream, tried to get back the things that were one of the few remnants of the time where he wasn't being used. the the time he wasn't busy being peoples pawns in a drawn-out game of chess.

he thought about that, unspeaking, unmoving. perhaps he didn't see the point anymore. perhaps there wasn't a point. but did that make everything not worth it. maybe.

going to open his mouth to speak, he noticed it. a hand on his shoulder. it dug into his clothes, a harsh grip that would never resemble comfort. before he could even thing time seemed to slow. he felt his hand push him backwards. his brain didn't seem to be worked. everything told him to run, to get out of the hold the person had on him. but he just couldn't. he couldn't react.

soon enough he was falling.

he felt the wind rush around him, roaring in his ears. he didn't have the chance to scream. he didn't have the chance to stop himself. he was falling, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do about it.

no. no. he had things to do with tubbo, he had to see the bench again. he had s much to do. this wasn't his time. his time wasn't over. not yet, please. please not yet.

a shriek emptied itself from his lungs, cutting through the evening air like a knife. it pierced through ears. but he couldn't hear himself over the wind. he couldn't hear anything besides the howling of the wind, mourning for their loss early. too early. this wasn't his time yet. no where near.

reaching out, he felt his hand brush against the rocks. cmon cmon if he could grab something.

he reached out, further and further before he was holding onto a ledge. for a few moments.

before loosing it. he was falling again.

no no no please not now he had to do this, he had to. if not for the discs then for tubbo, for wilbur. not ghostbur. wilbur. please he had to do this. one way or another. water. he was looking for water. where was it? where had it gone? c'mon please he needed to do this. he didn't want to go. he didn't want to leave. he didn't want to leave tubbo, he didnt want to go.

tubbo looked up, trying to find the source of the shouting. tommy? was that tommy?

"TUBBO"

"so long, theseus."

dream had won.

_i dont think i want to leave you_


End file.
